If Lin Jun had to rank the threats different professions posed to him, in his eyes, spies and assassins were without a doubt at the very bottom—practically “harmless livestock.”

Such professions usually sacrificed overall combat strength and endurance in exchange for extreme disguise techniques and short bursts of explosive offense.

Against Pujis, they were no different from free food delivery.

Especially since Lin Jun could directly peek at their attribute panels, even their hidden trump cards were laid bare, which further slashed their threat level.

By contrast, spellcasters were much trickier.

At the very least, Lin Jun couldn’t judge which exact spells they had mastered simply by looking at the “magic level” displayed on their panel.

Therefore, when assassin Milo suddenly realized he had been silently surrounded by countless invisible Pujis, it was already too late for any struggle.

The moment explosions thundered, inside the duke’s mansion, Butler Eric, who had been reviewing logistics in the study, immediately halted his work and confirmed Inanna’s safety first.

Only then did he lead men quickly to the scene.

“It seems the ‘Explosive Magic Array’ at the woodland’s edge was triggered. The intruder died on the spot,” the captain of the manor guards, who had arrived first, reported in a deep voice.

The items left on Milo’s body were quickly gathered: several poisoned daggers, shattered potion bottles, a protective amulet that boosted attributes, a magic gem that could instantly summon thick fog, and… several freshly picked Dreamflowers.

His identity as a wanted criminal and assassin was swiftly confirmed as well.

Even more unsettling, investigators discovered another person’s footprints fleeing in haste nearby.

Unfortunately, the trail ended abruptly partway, all clues cut off.

Eric’s face darkened. He immediately ordered more manpower to fortify the duke’s mansion’s defenses, while personally heading to the warehouse for an inventory.

Nearly half the stock of Dreamflowers had vanished without a trace!

The matter was riddled with suspicious points.

Eric didn’t know how it had been done, but the word “mole” surfaced in his mind.

And why Dreamflowers, of all things?

He resolved to first screen out only those he could completely trust to protect the young lady, then use the instruments within the mansion to check Inanna’s condition—

To prevent a situation where she herself wasn’t even aware she had been targeted!

Thinking of that worst-case possibility, Eric, rarely, prayed softly: “Lord of Light Ixion, I beg of you—do not let madam’s tragedy repeat upon the young lady…”

…

Of course, a simple frame-up couldn’t withstand close scrutiny.

But that didn’t matter—it was enough as a diversionary tactic.

As for the vampire viscount who had fled in panic, he was easily captured by the ambushing Aidens, working in concert with the Pujis.

For an illusion master like an Aiden, given ample preparation time, silently subduing a panicked vampire was no difficult feat.

Catching a vampire alive was rare. Lin Jun could finally test something he’d long been curious about—“What would happen if a vampire tried photosynthesis under the sun?”

…

Inside the duke’s mansion.

Inanna leaned against the window, gazing down at the suddenly busy, heavily reinforced guards below. A trace of worry clouded her young face.

“Boss, won’t it be harder to sneak Dreamflowers from the warehouse now?”

“It doesn’t matter. We don’t need them anymore!”

Yes, they weren’t needed anymore!

【Mental Guidance LV7】

The proficiency bar was finally filled. The key breakthrough was complete.

Lin Jun was eager to use tonight’s “date” to smash through that hardened “turtle shell.”

And if LV7 still couldn’t break it, then reaching LV8 in the short term was obviously impossible—even consuming all the remaining Dreamflowers in the warehouse wouldn’t be enough.

So, the rest of the Dreamflowers no longer mattered.

Listening to her boss’s thoughts echo in her mind, envisioning the joy of tonight, Inanna felt an indescribable sense of safety wrap around her whole being.

In truth, ever since the secret Mycelium Carpet network had successfully spread to the area around the duke’s mansion, that constant sense of security had never left her.

Even learning that professional assassins were targeting her had not stirred the slightest ripple of fear in her heart.

The Pujis were always by her side, and her boss was always watching her.

She was no longer facing the world alone.

There was nothing left to fear!

Yet compared to the fact that someone wanted to assassinate her, something else gnawed at Inanna’s mind.

It was the Puji Masters["Puji-handlers"]—the people whose faces were covered with glowing white threads of mycelium, who had entered into deep symbiosis with the Pujis and the Mycelium Carpet.

She envied them—perhaps even felt jealous!

That feeling of being intimately connected to the fungus threads, of becoming an extension of them!

In her heart of hearts, she longed to be fused with those warm threads too, to gain that absolute sense of belonging and connection.

But when she tentatively voiced this desire, her boss had rejected her outright without hesitation.

She understood—mostly because her status as a duke’s daughter was far too sensitive, it could bring unimaginable trouble.

She understood, yes. But that sense of being excluded, that unwillingness born from seeing others possess what she so desperately craved… it still quietly spread in her heart.

…

Meanwhile, at the Scarlet Spire.

Warlock Margas coughed violently, his pale fingers trembling as he pointed at two massive, intricately complex magic arrays on the floor, both emanating thick, oppressive darkness.

“Lord… this… cough… this is the method I found…” His voice was weak and hoarse, every word draining his dwindling life force.

Sigismund’s cold gaze swept across the two arrays. His voice betrayed no emotion: “Explain.”

“The one on the left,” Margas stifled his coughing, pointing to the array whose jagged runes seemed to twist light into a devouring whirlpool at its center, “it can forcibly open a trap in the outer wall of your dream, leading straight to the lowest layer of the Abyss. Once that existence touches it, the Abyss’ power will completely annihilate it!”

“And the price?” Sigismund knew all too well—no Abyss magic came without a price.

As expected, Margas answered with fear in his tone: “The Abyss… is unknown and terrifying. The trap harms both you and the enemy simultaneously. Though the ritual will use many slaves as substitute vessels to bear the backlash for you, since it’s cast within your consciousness, the stray Abyssal aura is still extremely dangerous…”

“Get to the conclusion.” Sigismund cut him off impatiently.

“There’s a thirty percent chance… you and the enemy perish together…”

“And the other seventy?”

“The rest… would leave your consciousness damaged but recoverable with time. Meanwhile, the enemy’s mind would be utterly torn apart by the Abyss, annihilated forever!”

Sigismund nodded without expression, his gaze shifting to the other array—comparatively calmer, but equally intricate and sinister. “And this one?”

“This is… the safer method. It will forcibly tear your soul, severing your link to the ‘Otherdream’ at the cost of sacrificing part of your soul.”

Sigismund gave a cold, disdainful snort.

He wasn’t a specialist in soul magic, but as a high-ranking vampire, he knew enough.

Tear the soul? Easy to say!

If he really did that, the consequences wouldn’t just be permanent loss of strength.

His mind itself could be damaged. Becoming paranoid and unstable would be the milder outcome. Worse, he could collapse entirely into a hollow shell, devoid of all self.

Even among the dukes, there was one who had gone mad this very way…

And besides, it was nothing but cowardly escape.

The wretch who had driven him into such a desperate corner would suffer no real harm.

A weak, self-mutilating way to barely cling to life—Sigismund could never accept it!

By contrast, the first method, though risky to the point of gambling his life, could actually destroy his foe. That was more in line with his nature.

“Prepare the captives!” Sigismund made his choice.

After Margas left, Sigismund summoned his adjutant, murmuring: “If tonight… anything happens to me, kill Margas.”

He then adjusted the Scarlet Spire’s surrounding military deployments, in case the restless Duke Alamar made a move.

Only after everything was arranged did he return alone to stand before the massive Abyss array that would soon decide his fate.

Scarlet light danced in his pupils.

“To think I’ve been forced into a battle of life and death…” His low murmur echoed in the empty hall. “What a pity—that even now, I still don’t know who you are. And after tonight… I likely never will.”